tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-102827112019-02-22T05:11:06.980-05:00My Own Private Book ClubNot as good as a book - it makes a very poor doorstop.The Naghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978145047787798267noreply@blogger.comBlogger4158125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10282711.post-91627044676807884032019-02-18T15:24:00.002-05:002019-02-18T15:24:30.886-05:00The Lover<blockquote class="tr_bq">THE girl is twenty-five. It has not been very long since her divorce but she cannot remember the man who used to be her husband. He was probably nice. She will tell the child this, at any rate. Once he lost a fifty-dollar pair of sunglasses while surf casting off Gay Head and felt badly about it for days. He did like kidneys, that was one thing. He loved kidneys for weekend lunch. She would voyage through the supermarkets, her stomach sweetly sloped, her hair in a twist, searching for fresh kidneys for this young man, her husband. When he kissed her, his kisses, or so she imagined, would have the faint odor of urine. Understandably, she did not want to think about this. It hardly seemed that the same problem would arise again, that is, with another man. Nothing could possibly be gained from such an experience! The child cannot remember him, this man, this daddy, and she cannot remember him. He had been with her when she gave birth to the child. Not beside her, but close by, in the corridor. He had left his work and come to the hospital. As they wheeled her by, he said, “Now you are going to have to learn how to love something, you wicked woman.” It is difficult for her to believe he said such a thing.</blockquote><br /><a href="https://biblioklept.org/2019/02/17/read-the-lover-a-short-story-by-joy-williams/">Read “The Lover,” a short story by Joy Williams – Biblioklept</a>The Naghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978145047787798267noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10282711.post-5975196219962073102019-02-18T15:22:00.003-05:002019-02-18T15:22:47.562-05:00Literary Pilgrims Flock To Imaginary Garden<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/--7CsY5rr65M/XGsT6fz_PrI/AAAAAAABIb4/1bxUdp9_f9EtDzaurdXkUpZpeybbUmWcgCLcBGAs/s1600/GettyImages-482266885.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="849" data-original-width="1280" height="265" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/--7CsY5rr65M/XGsT6fz_PrI/AAAAAAABIb4/1bxUdp9_f9EtDzaurdXkUpZpeybbUmWcgCLcBGAs/s400/GettyImages-482266885.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Giorgio Bassani, author of The Garden of the Finzi-Continis, in 1974. <br />PHOTO BY MARIO DE BIASI/MONDADORI PORTFOLIO VIA GETTY IMAGES</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The Garden of the Finzi-Continis was invented in Giorgio Bassani’s 1962 historical novel of the same name. It was so lovingly described in the book that many devoted readers have made a pilgrimage to the city of Ferrara, in Italy’s northeastern province of Emilia Romagna hoping to visit it only to be told that the garden existed only in Bassani's imagination. Now an Israeli sculptor named Karavan is going to do an installation called <i>The Garden That Doesn't Exist</i>.&nbsp;It will present as "large walls of glass covered in passages from the book in multiple languages, with an opening in it like a garden gate. Railway tracks interrupt it, evoking the deportations to death camps. Around the wall will be green grass, and inside only sand. And against the wall will rest a ladder, like the one used by the novel’s characters."<br /><br />Read More: <a href="https://www.atlasobscura.com/articles/is-the-garden-finzi-continis-real">Atlas Obscura</a>The Naghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978145047787798267noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10282711.post-88523814066985907572019-02-15T21:19:00.002-05:002019-02-15T21:19:23.290-05:00Tolstoy Ghosted His Wife Then Up and Died<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-x9Cx94vNj3E/XGdzE0G9lVI/AAAAAAABIZE/WNmW1HDqxu0CH5sQqjUjQx7feblIv43awCLcBGAs/s1600/image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="546" data-original-width="800" height="272" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-x9Cx94vNj3E/XGdzE0G9lVI/AAAAAAABIZE/WNmW1HDqxu0CH5sQqjUjQx7feblIv43awCLcBGAs/s400/image.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leo and Sophia, six weeks before his death in 1910. PUBLIC DOMAIN</td></tr></tbody></table><blockquote class="tr_bq">At three in the morning on a cold winter’s night Countess Sophia Berss woke to thumping of footsteps. Her husband, Count Lev Nikolayevich Tolstoy, arguably the nation’s most famous writer, was restlessly pacing in the next room at their home estate, Yasnaya Polyana, about 100 miles south of Moscow. He told her he had taken some medicine, asked her to go back to sleep, and shut the door behind her. When she woke again the next morning, her husband was gone.</blockquote><br />Read more:&nbsp;<a href="https://www.atlasobscura.com/articles/tolstoy-death-train-station">Atlas Obscura</a>The Naghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978145047787798267noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10282711.post-70010293530916994862019-02-15T20:47:00.001-05:002019-02-15T20:47:11.542-05:00“Cross” — Langston Hughes<a href="https://biblioklept.org/2019/02/15/cross-langston-hughes/">Cross</a><br /><br />My old man’s a white old man<br />And my old mother’s black.<br />If ever I cursed my white old man<br />I take my curses back.<br />If ever I cursed my black old mother<br />And wished she were in hell,<br />I’m sorry for that evil wish<br />And now I wish her well<br />My old man died in a fine big house.<br />My ma died in a shack.<br />I wonder where I’m going to die,<br />Being neither white nor black?<br /><br /><a href="https://biblioklept.org/2019/02/15/cross-langston-hughes/">Via&nbsp;</a>The Naghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978145047787798267noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10282711.post-23675956878093539342019-02-15T17:31:00.002-05:002019-02-15T17:31:13.123-05:00Not Waving But DrowningStevie Smith discusses and recites her poem <i>Not Waving But Drowning</i><br /><br /><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/FKHWEWOrL9s" width="560"></iframe><br /><a href="https://austinkleon.com/2019/02/14/not-waving-but-drowning/"><br /></a><a href="https://austinkleon.com/2019/02/14/not-waving-but-drowning/">Via</a>The Naghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978145047787798267noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10282711.post-54298424864794135752019-02-12T14:00:00.001-05:002019-02-12T14:00:22.070-05:00The Art of Book Covers (1820–1914)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SBlh0wcaDQg/XGMXsm4IQWI/AAAAAAABIWs/w3K7GyWKEkoDjeDmnUeirhtqlAOx_IregCLcBGAs/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2019-02-12%2Bat%2B1.54.32%2BPM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="467" data-original-width="838" height="178" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SBlh0wcaDQg/XGMXsm4IQWI/AAAAAAABIWs/w3K7GyWKEkoDjeDmnUeirhtqlAOx_IregCLcBGAs/s320/Screen%2BShot%2B2019-02-12%2Bat%2B1.54.32%2BPM.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><a href="https://publicdomainreview.org/collections/the-art-of-book-covers-1820-1914/">The Public Domain Review</a>&nbsp;has&nbsp;published some of their favourites from the first hundred years of the book cover.The Naghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978145047787798267noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10282711.post-73334112177309367472019-02-12T13:41:00.002-05:002019-02-12T13:41:34.396-05:00Ex-Wife, A Racy Jazz Age Novel<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XUPM5Krug4Q/XGMTRe1gtiI/AAAAAAABIWg/WTshSVfLeGEbxPtPYrne7T_lkMuJLl_5wCLcBGAs/s1600/ed-wife-1024x481.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="481" data-original-width="1024" height="187" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XUPM5Krug4Q/XGMTRe1gtiI/AAAAAAABIWg/WTshSVfLeGEbxPtPYrne7T_lkMuJLl_5wCLcBGAs/s400/ed-wife-1024x481.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><blockquote class="tr_bq">"Ursula Parrott was accused of promoting a dangerous sexual freedom. In her best-selling novels, the controversial author chronicled “life in the era of the one-night stand” during the twenties and thirties. Parrott’s extraordinary life took her to the heights of literary New York and pre-Code Hollywood, then left her jailed, penniless, and alone. Today, her books are out of print, and her name is all but forgotten."</blockquote><a href="https://www.theparisreview.org/blog/2019/02/12/the-racy-jazz-age-best-seller-youve-never-heard-of/">Read More</a>The Naghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978145047787798267noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10282711.post-33525420535248282092019-02-11T10:53:00.002-05:002019-02-11T10:53:28.333-05:00The Bolted BookA replica of avant-garde design book,&nbsp;<a href="https://www.swiss-miss.com/2019/02/the-bolted-book-an-avant-garde-masterpiece.html">Depero Futurista</a>, could be yours.&nbsp;The campaign to publish the first exact copy of Fortunato Depero's 1927 masterpiece ran in 2016. The facsimile was published in 2017, and a <a href="https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1204158310/the-bolted-book-an-avant-garde-masterpiece">new campaign </a>for a reprint of the facsimile is live through March 19.<br /><br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" mozallowfullscreen="" src="https://player.vimeo.com/video/187041885?color=72a7ed&amp;title=0&amp;byline=0&amp;portrait=0" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="560"></iframe><br /><a href="https://vimeo.com/187041885">The Bolted Book Facsimile</a> from <a href="https://vimeo.com/designersandbooks">Designers &amp; Books</a> on <a href="https://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.<br /><br /><a href="https://www.swiss-miss.com/2019/02/the-bolted-book-an-avant-garde-masterpiece.html">Via</a>The Naghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978145047787798267noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10282711.post-12755010367417045082019-02-11T09:18:00.000-05:002019-02-11T09:18:09.258-05:00Tweet Of The Day<blockquote class="twitter-tweet" data-lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="cy">Edna O'Brien <a href="https://t.co/NtQ5K1swQ8">pic.twitter.com/NtQ5K1swQ8</a></div>— Irish Literary Times (@IrishLitTimes) <a href="https://twitter.com/IrishLitTimes/status/1094740654322839554?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">February 10, 2019</a></blockquote><br /><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="https://platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>The Naghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978145047787798267noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10282711.post-74983137001217226712019-02-11T00:59:00.000-05:002019-02-11T01:00:48.137-05:00The Cost Of Living<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8wc7uU9jAn4/XGEOniTmnnI/AAAAAAABIVM/SIo3PnEw9G01_yO3oiiFzEIYD2X2bjFegCLcBGAs/s1600/download.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="276" data-original-width="183" height="200" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8wc7uU9jAn4/XGEOniTmnnI/AAAAAAABIVM/SIo3PnEw9G01_yO3oiiFzEIYD2X2bjFegCLcBGAs/s200/download.png" width="132" /></a></div>This slim volume contains author&nbsp;Deborah Levy's reflections as she embarks on a fresh start post-divorce. It is subtitled <i>A Working Autobiography</i>. Levy is 50, no longer a wife, with two daughters. She is a mother and a writer learning to live in a new reality. In spite of all sorts of upheaval she somehow manages to put one foot in front of the other. She rents an apartment with wacky heating and plumbing.She continues to write in a neighbour's backyard garden shed.&nbsp;She has a conflict with a fellow tenant over parking her bicycle, she fixes her blocked pipes, the chicken she has purchased for dinner gets flattened by a car but is still edible. It's about gender and motherhood and work and how life goes on.The Naghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978145047787798267noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10282711.post-8454119426681492402019-02-08T09:24:00.003-05:002019-02-08T09:24:56.575-05:00Book Rest Lamp <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-I5dUwRVE-Cg/XF2RG7YyYiI/AAAAAAABISU/5OGQ1TR7oD42S6IgV6y2kNGS6yuNfhpPQCLcBGAs/s1600/bookrest-lamp_1024x1024-1-480x480.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="480" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-I5dUwRVE-Cg/XF2RG7YyYiI/AAAAAAABISU/5OGQ1TR7oD42S6IgV6y2kNGS6yuNfhpPQCLcBGAs/s400/bookrest-lamp_1024x1024-1-480x480.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vakK8fAMz0M/XF2RG7fR-2I/AAAAAAABISQ/g6wajj5ksYU62IlwaNKtL5jejnL7rXivQCEwYBhgL/s1600/bookrest-lamp-table_1024x1024-480x480.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="480" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vakK8fAMz0M/XF2RG7fR-2I/AAAAAAABISQ/g6wajj5ksYU62IlwaNKtL5jejnL7rXivQCEwYBhgL/s400/bookrest-lamp-table_1024x1024-480x480.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><a href="https://www.suckukstore.com/collections/home/products/book-rest-lamp">Link</a><br /><br /><a href="https://www.swiss-miss.com/2019/02/book-rest-lamp.html">Via</a>The Naghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978145047787798267noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10282711.post-84372391711941842412019-02-06T08:49:00.002-05:002019-02-06T08:49:20.379-05:00The suspense author whose life is stranger than his fiction<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TOH5_4KDIuU/XFrlmH4bekI/AAAAAAABIQ4/w03MMYLAV6AH9rQ518Npd_bJGZvHIXx6wCLcBGAs/s1600/190211_r33716_rd-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1150" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TOH5_4KDIuU/XFrlmH4bekI/AAAAAAABIQ4/w03MMYLAV6AH9rQ518Npd_bJGZvHIXx6wCLcBGAs/s640/190211_r33716_rd-1.jpg" width="458" /></a></div><br />Ian Parker's recent piece in&nbsp;<a href="https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2019/02/11/a-suspense-novelists-trail-of-deceptions?utm_medium=10today.media.20190205.436.1&amp;utm_source=email&amp;utm_content=article&amp;utm_campaign=10-for-today---4.0-styling">The New Yorker</a>&nbsp;is about author Dan Mallory, who has written a bestselling thriller under the name A. J. Finn. Mallory is brilliant and charming. He is also an imposter. It's a fascinating story.<br /><br />Read it <a href="https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2019/02/11/a-suspense-novelists-trail-of-deceptions?utm_medium=10today.media.20190205.436.1&amp;utm_source=email&amp;utm_content=article&amp;utm_campaign=10-for-today---4.0-styling">here</a>.<br /><br /><br />The Naghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978145047787798267noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10282711.post-87161907276448751632019-02-05T08:46:00.003-05:002019-02-05T08:46:58.052-05:00British Library's collection of obscene writing goes online <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-e5to_Gb-JDI/XFmToKqy4TI/AAAAAAABIQU/cR99rwQHCII2mvpLR5GIZKOjBKzzMM9HQCLcBGAs/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2019-02-05%2Bat%2B8.45.55%2BAM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="468" height="272" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-e5to_Gb-JDI/XFmToKqy4TI/AAAAAAABIQU/cR99rwQHCII2mvpLR5GIZKOjBKzzMM9HQCLcBGAs/s400/Screen%2BShot%2B2019-02-05%2Bat%2B8.45.55%2BAM.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />‘Private Case’ is a collection of sexually explicit books dating back to 1658 ranges from the hijinks of Roger Pheuquewell to pioneering gay porn in the 19th century.&nbsp;Adrian Edwards, head of printed heritage at the library, said the collection “offers extraordinary insights into many facets of human sexuality over at least three centuries.<br /><br />Read more:&nbsp;<a href="https://www.theguardian.com/books/2019/feb/04/british-librarys-collection-of-obscene-writing-goes-online?utm_term=RWRpdG9yaWFsX0d1YXJkaWFuVG9kYXlVS19XZWVrZGF5cy0xOTAyMDU%3D&amp;utm_source=esp&amp;utm_medium=Email&amp;utm_campaign=GuardianTodayUK&amp;CMP=GTUK_email">The Guardian</a>The Naghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978145047787798267noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10282711.post-46877660094652002552019-02-03T09:11:00.001-05:002019-02-03T09:11:25.487-05:00Kerouac Beat Painting <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1Higbw_XUxI/XFb2Sbr46VI/AAAAAAABIOg/4MH-gvz8wBoprtdgk2eSeWeZOsGJU2PVQCLcBGAs/s1600/kerouac-beat-painting-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="672" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1Higbw_XUxI/XFb2Sbr46VI/AAAAAAABIOg/4MH-gvz8wBoprtdgk2eSeWeZOsGJU2PVQCLcBGAs/s640/kerouac-beat-painting-1.jpg" width="430" /></a></div><br /><a href="http://www.artbook.com/9788857237794.html">Kerouac Beat Painting&nbsp;Edited by Sandrina Bandera, Alessandro Castiglioni, Emma Zanella.</a>&nbsp;features 80 paintings and drawings by Jack Kerouac, most of which have never before been published, shedding a completely new light on the father of the Beat Generation, and showing how he brought the same energy to visual art as he did to all of his other endeavors.<br /><br /><a href="https://www.blogger.com/%3Cblockquote%20class=%22twitter-tweet%22%20data-lang=%22en%22%3E%3Cp%20lang=%22en%22%20dir=%22ltr%22%3EEarly%20Sunday%20Morning%20%3Ca%20href=%22https://t.co/2hyNyeWb66%22%3Epic.twitter.com/2hyNyeWb66%3C/a%3E%3C/p%3E%E2%80%94%20Irish%20Literary%20Times%20(@IrishLitTimes)%20%3Ca%20href=%22https://twitter.com/IrishLitTimes/status/1092046182984179714?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw%22%3EFebruary%203,%202019%3C/a%3E%3C/blockquote%3E%20%3Cscript%20async%20src=%22https://platform.twitter.com/widgets.js%22%20charset=%22utf-8%22%3E%3C/script%3E">Read more</a>The Naghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978145047787798267noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10282711.post-35687730405350960582019-02-03T08:33:00.002-05:002019-02-03T08:33:04.395-05:00Poem Of The Day<blockquote class="twitter-tweet" data-lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">Early Sunday Morning <a href="https://t.co/2hyNyeWb66">pic.twitter.com/2hyNyeWb66</a></div>— Irish Literary Times (@IrishLitTimes) <a href="https://twitter.com/IrishLitTimes/status/1092046182984179714?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">February 3, 2019</a></blockquote><br /><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="https://platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script><br /><div><br /></div>The Naghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978145047787798267noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10282711.post-59428493233370607042019-02-02T09:05:00.001-05:002019-02-02T09:05:54.625-05:00 Fragments of Estoire de Merlin discovered in Bristol archives<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rh9bgrR_jrE/XFWjUpNAzPI/AAAAAAABIN8/BeDx_IwWEKYkoKhSzki6ur5nV_AMNN-owCLcBGAs/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2019-02-02%2Bat%2B9.03.06%2BAM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="342" data-original-width="458" height="297" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rh9bgrR_jrE/XFWjUpNAzPI/AAAAAAABIN8/BeDx_IwWEKYkoKhSzki6ur5nV_AMNN-owCLcBGAs/s400/Screen%2BShot%2B2019-02-02%2Bat%2B9.03.06%2BAM.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photograph: University of Bristol/PA</td></tr></tbody></table>A previously unknown 13th-century version of a tale featuring Merlin and King Arthur has been discovered in the archives of Bristol central library. The seven handwritten fragments of parchment were&nbsp; bound inside an unrelated volume of the work of a 15th- century French scholar.<br /><br />Read more:&nbsp;<a href="https://www.theguardian.com/culture/2019/jan/30/undiscovered-merlin-tale-fragments-found-in-bristol-archives">The Guardian</a>The Naghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978145047787798267noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10282711.post-83798337668835810572019-02-02T08:10:00.003-05:002019-02-02T08:10:24.969-05:00 JD Salinger's unseen writings to be published<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-A2k0R2I_wHw/XFWWbiUWm-I/AAAAAAABINw/SJHA3C2FdAI5ePVf7r75XLHiS-NWKmGAQCLcBGAs/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2019-02-02%2Bat%2B8.07.42%2BAM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="270" data-original-width="456" height="236" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-A2k0R2I_wHw/XFWWbiUWm-I/AAAAAAABINw/SJHA3C2FdAI5ePVf7r75XLHiS-NWKmGAQCLcBGAs/s400/Screen%2BShot%2B2019-02-02%2Bat%2B8.07.42%2BAM.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photograph: San Diego Historical Society/Getty Images</td></tr></tbody></table>JD Salinger’s son has confirmed for the first time that the late author of The Catcher in the Rye wrote a significant amount of work that has never been seen, and that he and his father’s widow are “going as fast as we freaking can” to get it ready for publication.<br /><br />Read More:&nbsp;<a href="https://www.theguardian.com/books/2019/feb/01/jd-salingers-unseen-writings-to-be-published-family-confirms?utm_term=RWRpdG9yaWFsX0d1YXJkaWFuVG9kYXlVS19XZWVrZW5kLTE5MDIwMg%3D%3D&amp;utm_source=esp&amp;utm_medium=Email&amp;utm_campaign=GuardianTodayUK&amp;CMP=GTUK_email">The Guardian</a>The Naghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978145047787798267noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10282711.post-45901794721712757202019-02-01T15:20:00.000-05:002019-02-01T15:20:09.584-05:00Reading the Road<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2fqd690FcKo/XFSprePiSXI/AAAAAAABINg/tnWGSTkdBJoo7KMQwKTm6B30iQMDXiGLwCLcBGAs/s1600/book-art-960x574.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="574" data-original-width="960" height="238" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2fqd690FcKo/XFSprePiSXI/AAAAAAABINg/tnWGSTkdBJoo7KMQwKTm6B30iQMDXiGLwCLcBGAs/s400/book-art-960x574.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />A street was closed down for a day so that Ann Arbor’s <i>Literature vs Traffic</i> installation could provide a space for quiet reflection on the value of pedestrian-friendly public spaces and the absence of noise pollution.<br /><br />Volunteers attached small lights to the books, which were gifted back out to the community when the project was wrapped up — visitors were encouraged to take books with them when they left, leaving the streets clean and empty by midnight.<br /><br />More:&nbsp;<a href="https://weburbanist.com/2019/01/31/reading-the-road-river-of-11000-glowing-books-flows-down-city-street/">Urbanist</a><br /><br />Thanks Bruce!The Naghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978145047787798267noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10282711.post-36273456460053592512019-02-01T06:31:00.002-05:002019-02-01T06:31:39.549-05:00February<i>February </i>by Will Burns and Hannah Peel is taken from their album <a href="http://smarturl.it/WB_HP_CHB"><i>Chalk Hill Blue</i>.</a><br /><br /><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/bb1JLUSI-Fw" width="560"></iframe><br /><br />Via&nbsp;<a href="https://www.caughtbytheriver.net/2019/02/will-burns-hannah-peel-february/">Caught by the River</a>The Naghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978145047787798267noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10282711.post-61113171210800897382019-01-29T10:46:00.001-05:002019-01-29T10:46:34.821-05:00Where Virginia Woolf Listened to the Waves<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-epdka03_Au4/XFB1SDlmF7I/AAAAAAABIKk/d2BLEnBlzmsgoc1r9O9QVzt9HIQ13Af9ACLcBGAs/s1600/780w-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="545" data-original-width="780" height="278" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-epdka03_Au4/XFB1SDlmF7I/AAAAAAABIKk/d2BLEnBlzmsgoc1r9O9QVzt9HIQ13Af9ACLcBGAs/s400/780w-1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><blockquote class="tr_bq">When she was in her late fifties, Virginia Woolf wrote that her most important memory was of lying in bed at Talland House—the nineteenth-century home in St Ives, Cornwall where she, her parents, and her seven siblings spent every summer until she was thirteen—and listening to waves break on the beach as sunlight pressed against a yellow blind.</blockquote><a href="https://www.theparisreview.org/blog/2019/01/29/where-virginia-woolf-listened-to-the-waves/">Read more&nbsp;</a>The Naghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978145047787798267noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10282711.post-55577445732134382942019-01-28T15:03:00.002-05:002019-01-28T15:03:22.751-05:00Duchamp’s Last Day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mlldS5rY0lU/XE9f7XLLYrI/AAAAAAABIJ8/CvQOzb3GahMBYD3t4BfJhMnkyu_P3uAWACLcBGAs/s1600/cover-Duchamp%25E2%2580%2599s-Last-Day-by-Donald-Shambroom-720x472.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="472" data-original-width="720" height="261" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mlldS5rY0lU/XE9f7XLLYrI/AAAAAAABIJ8/CvQOzb3GahMBYD3t4BfJhMnkyu_P3uAWACLcBGAs/s400/cover-Duchamp%25E2%2580%2599s-Last-Day-by-Donald-Shambroom-720x472.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><blockquote class="tr_bq">American artist-writer-curator Donald Shambroom's detailed book, published by David Zwirner on the 50th anniversary of Marcel Duchamp’s death, is&nbsp; entitled <i>Duchamp’s Last Day</i>. It focuses on the last day and death of arguably the most influential artist of the 20th century.</blockquote><a href="https://feedly.com/i/entry/gwZ3fcVj7OLTRf8xm3+JaJ/meGJLp/CQbkdzd6/A8Ek=_16894f3b2ac:22d5767:56b782f7">More here</a>The Naghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978145047787798267noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10282711.post-58310178232950295482019-01-28T07:40:00.001-05:002019-01-28T07:40:11.549-05:00Hear Neil Gaiman Read a Poem by Ursula K. Le Guin &nbsp;Brain Picking’s Maria Popova was asked to recommend a poem that Neil Gaiman could read aloud to his cousin on her 100th birthday. She chose <i>How It Seems To Me</i>, a late-in-life poem by science fiction writer Ursula K. Le Guin, a close friend of Gaiman’s who died in January of 2018, 12 years shy of her own centenary:<br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="651" mozallowfullscreen="" src="https://player.vimeo.com/video/310035821?color=ffdb00" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="560"></iframe><br /><a href="https://vimeo.com/310035821">Neil Gaiman reads Ursula K. Le Guin's ode to timelessness to his 100-year-old cousin</a> from <a href="https://vimeo.com/brainpicker">Maria Popova</a> on <a href="https://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.<br /><br /><blockquote class="tr_bq">HOW IT SEEMS TO ME&nbsp;</blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq">In the vast abyss before time, self<br />is not, and soul commingles<br />with mist, and rock, and light. In time,<br />soul brings the misty self to be.<br />Then slow time hardens self to stone<br />while ever lightening the soul,<br />till soul can loose its hold of self<br />and both are free and can return<br />to vastness and dissolve in light,<br />the long light after time.</blockquote><br />More:&nbsp;<a href="http://www.openculture.com/2019/01/hear-neil-gaiman-read-a-beautiful-profound-poem-by-ursula-k-le-guin-to-his-cousin-on-her-100th-birthday.html">Open Culture</a>The Naghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978145047787798267noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10282711.post-23591314268689043782019-01-28T06:37:00.003-05:002019-01-28T06:37:34.873-05:00A WW1 Magazine Created by Soldiers <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6Vw-SQtyvfU/XE7o6GhMsoI/AAAAAAABII4/Agut8yRMfTITCtyoSXqRCk2LnT9OKXc_wCLcBGAs/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2019-01-28%2Bat%2B6.34.37%2BAM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="622" data-original-width="787" height="315" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6Vw-SQtyvfU/XE7o6GhMsoI/AAAAAAABII4/Agut8yRMfTITCtyoSXqRCk2LnT9OKXc_wCLcBGAs/s400/Screen%2BShot%2B2019-01-28%2Bat%2B6.34.37%2BAM.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><a href="https://publicdomainreview.org/collections/made-in-the-trenches-a-ww1-magazine-created-by-soldiers-1916/">Made in the Trenches</a>&nbsp;was a magazine- style book edited by Sir Frederick Treves and George Goodchild in 2016. It was composed entirely from articles and sketches contributed by soldiers.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NityGuTXe-8/XE7pZ-scFlI/AAAAAAABIJA/5-7WLatyangGQ_6a8RFD5m9wfEi-2bkVwCLcBGAs/s1600/McGhee-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="464" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NityGuTXe-8/XE7pZ-scFlI/AAAAAAABIJA/5-7WLatyangGQ_6a8RFD5m9wfEi-2bkVwCLcBGAs/s640/McGhee-1.jpg" width="410" /></a></div><br /><br /><a href="https://publicdomainreview.org/collections/made-in-the-trenches-a-ww1-magazine-created-by-soldiers-1916/">Read it here</a><br /><br />Thanks Bruce!The Naghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978145047787798267noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10282711.post-55085493085884578202019-01-25T19:54:00.001-05:002019-01-25T19:54:50.296-05:00Memories of Irish BirdsongA flash fiction by the author of ‘Beasts at Bedtime’<br /><br /><blockquote class="tr_bq">I worked one summer on the Cork Train on the food trolley. A young fella with me in the kitchen car was really into the skylark (Alauda arvensis, in Irish: “Fuiseog”). He could play skylark’s famous guitar riff on his knock-off Les Paul (you know the one, it goes “chirrup… chirrup, trrrp”). Claimed the skylark did not play a real Gibson either. I will never forget that little detail; I lost touch with that kid later on.</blockquote><a href="https://www.irishtimes.com/culture/books/memories-of-irish-birdsong-1.3765719?fbclid=IwAR3gRIetTqrp9eqce9xtfg-WQQ8bVm42AJO0Z-e8xExeMdaSNI-XERyge_A">More here</a>The Naghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978145047787798267noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10282711.post-78246719065742189422019-01-24T09:44:00.002-05:002019-01-24T09:44:40.456-05:00A Want in MePadraic Fiacc was an Irish poet, and member of Aosdána, the exclusive Irish Arts Academy. He died earlier this week. Here is his poem&nbsp;<i>A Want in Me&nbsp;</i>arranged by Musical Director Clare Galway and sung by The Feíle Women Singers.<br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" mozallowfullscreen="" src="https://player.vimeo.com/video/312843564" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="560"></iframe><br /><br /><a href="https://vimeo.com/312843564">Padraic Fiacc's poem 'A Want in Me'</a> from <a href="https://vimeo.com/user91950955">MMH</a> on <a href="https://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://www.facebook.com/IrishLitTimes/">Via</a><br /><br /><br /><br />The Naghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978145047787798267noreply@blogger.com0